Another piece of my writing that I am still happy with years on. This was the first story I made real money from and the second post on this blog. It was published in a short story magazine in 2005 and was my first experience of what happens when you sell your work for money and no longer have control over it. The title was changed so then ending came as no surprise and every single sentence had words cut from it. It was based on a longstanding family joke, but more of that at then end of the story.

The Wood
Helen kicked off her shoes as soon as she came through the door, dumping the plastic shopping bags on the floor. All idea of a quiet cup of tea, of time, space to herself, evaporated with the sight of the kitchen table strewn with nut, bolts, small dials, pieces of metal and…